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Tropical Duet #1
Released March 1st, 2016
Movie star Mitch Wulfrum is tired of deflecting the gay rumors buzzing around him. It's time for drastic measures to suppress them once and for all--even if it means marriage in name only to the first trophy wife he can get his hands on. And beautiful sugar-cane princess Kiona 'Alohi fits right into his plan.
Kiona can't believe her luck when she's presented with Mitch's proposition. Her overbearing father is dangling her trust fund over her head as an enticement to dump her oh-so-sexy, but oh-so-unsuitable lover, Nakolo. A bogus marriage to Mitch will net her everything she wants--money and love, even if she can only have Kol on the sly.
What she doesn't expect are the sexual sparks that fly between her and Mitch, or, when Kol catches them together, the heat that flares between the two men. One scandalously pleasurable encounter after another fans the flames of attraction, until they begin to dream that all three of them could have everything they ever wanted--and more than they ever expected.
An intricate, fragile web of lies and deceit are all that keep their wanton secrets from erupting into the public eye. Trouble is, one scheming photographer named Anjelee has already clicked the shutter that could ruin all their lives.
Kabana Wild: Tropical Duet 1 by Josie Jax
He thirsted for her as always, but how to get his final fill of her in this cramped little sports car?
Nakolo, the sunroof… It was as if Pele whispered the solution in his ear.
“Stand up,” he ordered.
“You heard me. Stand up. Remove your shoes, plant a foot on each seat, and stand up so your top half is through the sunroof.”
Her mouth fell open, and a sound that resembled a wheeze tore from her throat. He watched as she blinked, scanned the inside of the car, and looked up through the sunroof. Nakolo knew the precise moment understanding dawned on her.
For a full thirty seconds, she stared deep into his eyes, her own tearing up. She finally understood his desperation and intense desire to have her, to reclaim what was his after seeing her with another man.
Kiona twisted, assuring the car remained in park, and removed her shoes. She reached for the sunroof’s edge and pulled herself to a standing position. She was a tall woman, and it was a small car, so with her feet placed as wide as she could get them on each front seat, the roof came to waist level.
She set her elbows and forearms on the roof and leaned on them. “I’m ready,” she whispered down to him.
He scooted forward and drew up her dress, stuffing the front hem beneath the garment’s waistband. And there it was, her jewel—his jewel. Nakolo’s mouth watered, and his balls throbbed, engorging like a balloon ready to pop.
“Hemolele! Mmm, my love, you are so gorgeous, so”—he swiped his tongue up her slit, eliciting a scream from her—“delicious.”
The flavor of cream and faint salt burst in his mouth. Holy islands, she was wetter than the sea. He drew back and studied her toned thighs and the top of the V they held dear. Except for a small patch of dark curls above her clit, she always kept her pussy shaved for him so he could feel her silky lips on his tongue or encircling his shaft. The labia were smooth and naturally tanned, her nub pink and swollen, emerging at the top of her cleft like the early bloom of a hibiscus. God, what perfection!
Nakolo couldn’t delay any longer. He wrapped his arms around her hips and reached behind her.
Sinking one finger into her dripping-wet puka, he closed his mouth over her swollen bud.
She screamed again, this time far louder. He heard her hands slap the roof and rejoiced when her voluptuous body spasmed in his arms, against his face. He flicked his tongue over her clitoris while gazing upward through the sunroof. She was like a siren of the sea. He watched as the Pacific winds blew inland, tossing her hair in a wild mass, her breasts perky mounds, her face contorted in ecstasy.
Her pelvis did a swiveling dance, abrading over his face. She growled, reaching for that pinnacle that always came so easily for her. Nakolo pumped his finger faster, adding another, then a third. She spread wider, accommodating him, coating his fingers with her stickiness. With his tongue, he thoroughly explored every fold, crease, and little bulge, knowing the time would come very soon when he would have to yank her down into the car and plunge himself into her.
She was almost there, he could tell by the stiffening of her dance and the animal mewls escaping from deep in her throat. But somewhere in the sexual blur of his mind, Nakolo heard the hum of a car engine. He whipped his head around to see a sleek Mercedes pull up behind Kiona’s car.
“Goddamn it,” he swore when he saw none other than Mitch Wulfrum—the damn movie star—unfold himself from the driver’s seat and stride toward Kiona’s car.
Kiona’s windows were darkly tinted, so most likely Mitch couldn’t see Nakolo. If Mitch had spied Nakolo’s truck back at Jager’s house, he’d probably know Nakolo sat in her car. But if he hadn’t peered out the window at Nakolo’s boyish antics, Mitch wouldn’t know whose truck it was and might assume Kiona was alone and the truck abandoned.
Not knowing one way or the other added an edge of excitement to the unexpected situation. Nakolo’s loins simmered with reluctant fire. Did he want to be discovered or not?
As Mitch approached the driver’s side, Nakolo studied the strikingly handsome face, the tall, lean body…and the bulge in the jeans Mitch now wore. Nakolo swore under his breath. Why was it he found the sight of this man sauntering nearer so very arousing while Kol orally pleasured Kiona? Where had his anger gone? And why hadn’t he demanded an explanation from Kiona about her tryst with this man before Kol had dived right into satisfying his sexual urges?
“Mitch, what are you—what are you doing here?” Kol heard Kiona choke out.
Tropical Duet #2
Released April 5th, 2016
But her plans go awry when Jager tracks her to sultry Karibu Resort and threatens to extradite her back to the U.S. and see her imprisoned for her crime. As PR agent to a famous Hollywood celebrity who Anjelee has blackmailed, Jager's loyalties lie with his employer, movie star Mitch Wulfrum.
Or do they?
As soon as Jager steps foot onto the anything-goes island and sees the gorgeous Anjelee and handsome Keefer living it up in the buff, it's as if Jager's been drugged. Before he can get Anjelee in handcuffs and haul her back to jail where she belongs, Jager finds himself smoldering in the Jamaican heat and entangled in the couple's hedonistic web of lust.
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JAMAICA WILD: Tropical Duet 2
The tropical breeze moved through the nearby beach palms and sent a flood of brine-scented, balmy air across their naked bodies. Anjelee lay on a double raft in the roped-off bay designated for swimming, Keefer at her side. Her eyes were closed behind her shades, but the strong sunrays left a pale-yellow curtain behind her eyelids while warming her from her bare breasts to her toes.
About twenty feet away, a woman moaned in the water while a man growled, “Yes, baby, take me. Aw, shit, you’re so fucking tight.”
A svelte woman sunned in the buff in a floating lounger sipping a margarita while one man pleasured her between the legs and another gave full attention to her bulging, fake breasts.
Yet another woman, blonde and naturally buxom, knelt on all fours in the shallow surf at beachside and gave a body-builder-type man a thorough blowjob while a black man entered her from behind. A second female sat on the face of the man receiving oral, dancing and groaning her pleasure.
Almost as if desensitized to all the nude resort’s sexual energy around them, a group of a dozen naked men and women whooped and hollered while engaging in a serious game of sand volleyball. The seaside pool where Jager had first found her playing naked Twister was in full swing just above a low rocky ledge where the cove merged into the open beach. Droves of bronzed bodies frolicked in the pool water, and loyal staff hovered nearby to assist them and monitor for the occasional rule-breaker—like Jager when he’d refused to follow the resort rules and get naked. Laughter and chattering could be heard over the swim-up bar’s buzzing blenders and lively reggae music. Further still, beyond the boardwalk, the terrace dining area with its famous “Naked Parties Pier” buzzed in full lunch mode. She supposed all that sun and sex revved up the appetites. Women in skimpy swimsuits slinked around the many buffet tables and caught the eyes of men and other women alike.
Anjelee sighed. Ah, yes, all in a day’s work and play at Karibu’s hedonistic resort.
His name popped into her head as she drowsily soaked up the sun. A shiver went up her spine. He was out there somewhere in the middle of all that sexual energy watching her, she just knew it. Hell, she could feel it. But screw him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of one single, wary look his way even if Keefer did have plans for them to do more than just look at Jager.
The raft shifted, and Keefer’s hand closed over hers. “Let’s do it now, babe.”
She opened one eye to find him on his side facing her, his head, with its slick-backed, dark hair, propped on a fist. Her breath caught in her windpipe. Jeepers alive, the man was so ruggedly handsome, he never failed to leave her breathless. His hand moved in a slow caress up her arm, and wowza, he may as well have stroked her clit. Something hot and liquidy stirred in her womb.
She swallowed to clear the growing lump in her throat. “Do it? Do what?”
“It.” He trailed a finger from her oiled shoulder down over her nipple. Flames shot from her breast to her cunt so lightning-fast, it made her gasp. She slowly opened her other eye and gawked at him through the pale-pink lenses of her sunglasses.
He’d never touched her there before. Hell, for that matter, he’d never touched her anywhere before, not with feeling and the heat of sex driving his hands to do yummy things.
Her voice came out in a breathy whisper. She fought to calm her racing heart. “‘It’, as in…?”
“Don’t play coy with me, Anj. You know what I mean.” He cupped one mound, causing her to arch her back off the surface of the raft. “Make love.”
She gulped. Oh, God, those two little words sounded so hot in that deep, all-male voice of his.
“Mmm. See over there?” Keefer urged her onto her side and moved lay along her backside. He reached down and, from behind, gently guided his long cock between the backs of her closed legs. She jolted at first, but then she looked down and saw the head emerge just above her upper thighs and below her pussy lips. Any resistance she’d clung to vanished instantly. A zap of desire shot through her core, and a trickle of her juices escaped her vagina. It dribbled onto his thrusting shaft. “See him? Do you see Jager there on the lounge chair, on the beach watching us?”
Though she could barely keep her eyes open at the sudden passion seizing her, she forced her gaze to search the shore. It didn’t take long to find him where she’d sensed all along he’d been. He had one arm propped arrogantly behind his head, the V of his bronzed, fit torso tapering down to narrow hips. His right leg was propped up, the left bent slightly on the chair so that she could easily see his groin area. His other hand rested on his pelvic bone, and she dragged in a ragged gasp at the sight of his erection and the single thumb he lazily stroked up and down its length. He wore shades over eyes she knew watched them, and a shiver racked her body when he licked his lips and closed his hand around the circumference of his male bulk.
Taunting her. He was taunting her intentionally, the bastard. Why, she didn’t know. He’d made it clear he was here for one thing, and it didn’t include romance or sex, but rather jail for her.
Still, he looked good. Damn good.
“Y-yes, I s-see him.” God, she couldn’t breathe. Could barely talk.
Josie Jax is the new pseudonym for a USA Today bestselling author of erotic romances in various genres. She lives in the Midwest and dreams of becoming a crazy cat lady by rehabbing an old barn into a fancy mansion for stray cats and stranded kittens.
Please visit Josie’s website or feel free to email her at firstname.lastname@example.org.